AN: This is my first fic. Please feel free to review. I'll take the good and the bad. Hope y'all enjoy! Thank you to my betas! You guys helped inspire me to write and publish. Y'all are awesome!
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, Supernatural, the NFL, or Aerosmith (or any of the stuff that those people own). I know that sounds like a weird combination, but I think it works!
The kiss was long and passionate. Their tongues always danced, but the emotion was usually closer to a tango than that of a waltz. Neither of them wanted to give up control. She could smell his aftershave and the leather of his jacket. As she dropped her hand from his sandy locks to his cheek, the feel of his stubble drove her crazy. Cassie could get lost in it for eternity, as it felt like home. His lips had her on fire. If he moved his mouth to just below her jaw, she knew it would be a lost cause. His hands had smoothly moved to cup her ass and squeezed with the right amount of force. Cassie let out a strangled moan. Hearing the sound of the horn from the Impala jolted them to the real task at hand. She was on her front porch saying goodbye to Dean, her love. They reluctantly parted and gave each other smoldering looks. Cassie said, "I know you have to go, but please be careful out there and trust that I love you." Dean nodded and gave her a sad smile as he walked away and got in the car.
Mercedes had spent the better part of the morning reading fanfiction. She has no idea how she became addicted to the stuff, but here she was, still in her pajamas, trying to find out what was going to happen next between Dean and Cassie. Sam had introduced her to the science-fiction tv show, Supernatural, and she could definitely see the appeal. What could be wrong with two hot brothers traveling across America to rid the world of the monsters that really do live under our beds? Mercedes had loved an episode in Season One where the hotter (in her opinion) brother, Dean, reconnected with an old flame, Cassie. Sadly, the romance was only seen in that single episode. That's the beauty of fanfiction – these forgotten storylines can live forever! Fanfiction exists on the internet and it is where fans of movies, tv shows, books, etc. will take certain parts of the fiction and enhance, recreate, or re-imagine their favorite characters or storyline. Consequently, Mercedes was able to relive and continue one of her favorite romantic pairings all in her head. It was usually better than what they could show on network tv anyway.
In the current fiction that Mercedes was reading, Dean and his brother had rescued Cassie from some kind of demon and she almost died, but Dean was there to save the day. He was her knight in a pair of nice-fitting jeans and a cool leather jacket. In the latest update, Dean had to leave Cassie to continue saving other people from danger.
Mercedes sighed at the nobility. She thought that would be the life – to have a man that was willing to protect her but still feel the pull to help others because of a greater good. Not that her Sam was a bad catch by any means, but after being married for seven years, things had gotten awfully routine. Mercedes and Sam met in their high school glee club. Most would consider them opposites in appearance, as he was a blond surfer looking dude while she was a short curvy diva with glam. After a roller coaster dating experience, they eventually got married after college. They settled in Nashville with Sam carving out a decent niche as a graphic designer and Mercedes as an elementary school music teacher. Life was good because they liked their careers and lived close to some friends and family. Sam's little brother, Stevie, had even married a friend from their glee club, Quinn.
As Mercedes pondered the awesomeness of Dean from Supernatural, she tried to recall if Sam had ever saved her life? Nope. One time she started choking on rogue piece of popcorn that went down the wrong pipe, but he didn't even recognize that she couldn't breathe. Luckily, it was a glee club reunion party and Santana was there. She jumped up, performed the Heimlich, got Mercedes some water, and returned to her place on the sofa before anyone could blink. Sam mentioned that he thought something could have been wrong given the weird shade of purple-blue she turned and the odd gurgling noises she made; but he never moved from his place beside her regardless of her attempts to poke him while she struggled to breathe. And Sam was a graphic designer, what kind of higher calling occupation is that? The people that need his services have the means to pay for them and those people are never in life or death situations. Mercedes reasoned that even if Dean were a graphic designer, he would have saved her from the popcorn. But who would have a movie night with Dean? They'd be too busy fighting evil, or going to their next destination, or making out, or…
"Almost ready, babe?" Mercedes' thoughts were interrupted as she heard Sam call from the other side of the house.
"What? Doesn't the game start at 5? I thought we were trying to get to Stevie and Quinn's by 3 o'clock or so," Mercedes answered. They were going over to Stevie and Quinn's to watch the Super Bowl.
"The game starts later, but I wanted to get the house early to have a couple of beers and catch up with Stevie before everyone else got there. And I wanted to claim my spot in the living room for the best viewing action!" Sam called back.
Mercedes was certain that Sam just wanted to compete with his little brother. Ever since Stevie and Quinn moved into their new house with the state-of-the-art video/audio system, Sam had been itching to upgrade theirs, too. She didn't see why, since what they had was fine, but brothers will be brothers. Mercedes thought that Sam wanted to get there early just so he could figure out the specs and then he could purchase an even more outrageous tv with all the bells and whistles. She looked at the clock, and noted that it was a little after eleven. "I still have to shower," she told him.
By this point, Sam had ventured back to their bedroom. "You still have to shower? What have you been doing all day?"
"I've been busy. Reading up on some things," Mercedes answered.
Sam looked at her like she was lying since he only saw her laptop on the bed where she was reclined. Usually Mercedes was surrounded by school books and papers to grade. "Reading what?"
Mercedes wondered how to explain fanfiction to her husband, especially fanfiction where she was currently crushing on a character from a tv show. "It's an up and coming author that's published some fiction independently. I'm able to read it electronically. You know how I love to support the local artist!" she ended with a nervous chuckle and a raised fist.
"Yeah babe, that's cool," Sam said in a dismissive manner, but with raised brows. "So what time will you be ready?"
Mercedes was pleased with her outfit – denim skirt, tights, and knee-high leather boots. And she had on a women's-style Chris Johnson jersey. Not that she was a big Tennessee Titans fan, but Sam was. Although the Titans were not in the big game, it was a cute look on Mercedes. Plus, after tonight's game she wouldn't have a chance to wear the jersey again until fall. Her hair was long and down in spiral curls. She was looking good and feeling good, too!
As she made her way to the foyer, she heard a growl. "You look hot, babe! That jersey makes me wanna do some things that would make us extremely late for the game," Sam said as he came up behind her and grabbed her butt.
"Thanks, Sammy. I'm glad you approve. So are we ready?" Mercedes laughed heading for the front door to pick up her purse and jacket.
"Yep. We're all set. But where's the chili? In the kitchen?" Sam asked.
"What chili?"
"The chili that Stevie and Quinn asked you to make," Sam said.
"They never asked me to make chili." Mercedes stated.
"Yes they did. The one that we had the day after Thanksgiving with the sweet potatoes. Everyone loved it."
Mercedes recalled, "I remember making that chili for Thanksgiving…but nobody mentioned having it for the Super Bowl."
"Quinn had Stevie call over a few weeks ago to ask you to make it."
"I don't remember speaking to Stevie. Did I miss the voicemail?" Mercedes wondered aloud.
Sam thought harder. "….uh oh. Stevie called and I answered. You weren't here. And then we started talking about other stuff, and then I forgot to give you the message when you came home. Sorry, Mercy."
"You forgot to tell me?! Sam, how could you forget something like that? We've been talking about going over there all week!"
"Sorry. It just slipped my mind. We can pick up some chips or something on the way," Sam said as he tried to hustle Mercedes out of the door.
Mercedes stopped and stared at him incredulously. "Chips?! They asked us to bring a main fucking dish, and you want to stop and pick up some chips? Really, Sam? I can't believe you right now. I am so fucking annoyed!" Mercedes cursed. The argument didn't stop in the car. "When you asked me earlier what I was doing all day, why didn't you ask me about the chili?" Mercedes inquired.
"I didn't think about it, babe. I mean, I don't know your schedule, you could've cooked it yesterday," Sam answered.
"We were together yesterday."
"Not every moment! Damn, Mercy. Give me a break!"
"Whatever." Mercedes said. Sam was hopeful that the discussion was over, but when the car got closer to the market, Mercedes countered with, "And it never occurred to you that the smell of chili had not been in our home for months? I mean chili smells up the whole fucking house! The house had ne'er a hint of chili powder, peppers, onions, beans, sweet potatoes,…. " Sam decided it was best to stay silent at this point as Mercedes continued to tick off the ingredients in her chili. He couldn't win.
"Okay, how about I drop you off at the door, you go in and get whatever you want, text me when you're almost through the line, and I'll drive around and get you." Sam proposed.
"Fine," Mercedes said curtly.
As Mercedes wandered around the rather busy grocery store trying to find food that was hearty, already cooked, and easy to transport, strangers continually gave her props for the jersey. She responded with a fake smile and a weak, "Go Titans, we got 'em next year." Her mind drifted back to Dean Winchester and how chili and a Super Bowl party would simply not be on their radar. As she inserted herself into the fictionalized drama, Mercedes envisioned herself being the strong woman at home that understood Dean's career. Okay with the danger because he's helping humanity. She could keep the secret of his true job but still be his anchor at home, whenever he was there.
Mercedes wondered if she should pick up an apple pie because Dean likes pie. There weren't that many pies left. In fact, there wasn't much left of anything. Who goes to the store a couple of hours before the big game and expects to find much? Her stupid husband that's who, and her by default! After settling on a 7-layer dip and some tortilla chips, Mercedes made her way to the line and sent Sam a quick text.
When she walked out of the store, she didn't see their car. Scanning the parking lot, Mercedes was able to spot the vehicle with Sam inside. He was looking down at something that gave a light blue illumination to his face, and he appeared extremely focused on it. She tried waving her arms and calling his cell phone, but he never looked up from whatever had his attention. Mercedes shuffled over to the car carrying the bags and opened the door. While she was throwing the bags in the back she could have sworn she heard the distinctive beeps and music of Candy Crush.
Getting in the front seat, Mercedes asked, "What happened? I texted and called, but you didn't move."
"Sorry, babe. I got caught up playing this game. Needed to make it to the next level," Sam sheepishly answered.
"Oh, you must have lost your damn mind! First, you forget to tell me about the chili, and now you forget to pick me up! I can't even look at you right now," Mercedes yelled as she wished for supernatural laser vision so she could burn holes into her husband's head. He must be crazy.
"I. Am. Sorry. What more do you want me to do? I can't pull chili out of my ass! Maybe we shouldn't even go to Stevie's if you're going to have an attitude all night."
"Oh, no! I'm not going to be the reason you miss seeing the game on the screen that God created for this purpose. We're going and we're going to have a good time!" Mercedes decided.
"Well, I could still go and I could take you back home, since my presence seems to irritate you. And although you claim not to be able to look at me, you sure are staring at me like I have two fucking heads! It was a simple mistake."
"Are you crazy? And have our family only hear your side of the story. I can't pull chili out of my ass either, and I'm hungry! No, sir. Like I said. We're going and we're enjoying the hell out of this damn evening!"
Sam sighed. This was going to be a long night, even though it started out so promising with that sexy jersey. Could it be salvaged? The uncomfortable silence for the remainder of the ride spoke volumes that the outlook was not good.
"Hey guys!" Quinn excitedly greeted the quiet couple once she opened the front door. Sam's face was grim and a smile was nowhere to be found. He gave a Quinn a short nod and pushed past her and headed straight for the den. Mercedes tried the fake smile again, but when Quinn asked, "Where's the chili?" she couldn't take it anymore.
Rolling her eyes, she said, "Ask Sam's ass."
"What?" Quinn was confused.
"Sorry Quinn, we had a communication problem, so I didn't make the chili. We stopped by the store and picked up a 7-layer dip and tortilla chips."
"That's perfect! Thank you!"
"It's not perfect, but thanks for saying that."
"No really it is. We have a smaller crowd than we originally thought, so we have more than enough food. Mercedes, it's okay. No biggie," Quinn said as she rubbed Mercedes' shoulder.
Mercedes didn't realize that she was on the verge of tears from her anger towards her husband. As she and Quinn walked to the kitchen Mercedes heard the most wonderful sound in the world. A martini was being shaken and the sound of the ice and liquid in the metal contraption was just what the doctor ordered. Santana turned around, took one look at Mercedes' expression, and handed her a fresh key lime pie martini. Mercedes was able to exhale and feel the love.
Mercedes quickly took a long sip of the tartly sweet drink. "San, you just don't know how much I needed this. Please tell me when did Sam get so dumb?"
All the girls laughed, but Mercedes was not smiling. On the contrary, she was very serious.
Since everyone usually traveled to see family for the holidays, the glee clubbers tried to see each other whenever a long weekend was warranted. So Santana, Brittany, Tina, Mike, and Puck were in town for the Super Bowl. Mercedes caught up the girls on Sam's behavior for the day.
"…fucking Candy Crush! Can you believe that?" Mercedes finished her story.
"Men are just idiots," Tina said.
"And they behave like children," Quinn piped up.
"That's why I don't do men," said Santana.
"But they can be cute when they try to act right." Of course Brittany wouldn't speak badly of men, or anyone for that matter. Everyone smiled sadly at her. It was difficult to bitch about the husbands to someone that believed in fairies and unicorns.
"Mercedes, let me take you on a tour of the house. I can't wait to show you my closet!" exclaimed Quinn.
"Girl, that closet ain't nothin' but the truth!" Santana said as she high fived Tina and Brittany.
"Well, let's go!" Mercedes was excited to see this fabulous closet. Maybe a little too excited. She had downed her first martini rather quickly and was working on her second. When she stood up for the tour, the room took a minute to get back into focus. Mercedes wasn't drunk, just relaxed and warm. And she was taking her drink with her.
While on the tour, Quinn and Mercedes passed through the den where the guys had a set up for cards and tv watching. Mercedes was laughing loudly at something Quinn said, when Sam called her over and casually grabbed her hand to gently tug her to sit on the loveseat next to him.
"Hey babe, are you okay? Still mad at me? What number drink are you on?" he asked.
"I'm fine. I'm speaking to you, but your presence is still irritating. This is number two. Why?"
"Nothing. I just know that you haven't eaten anything since an early breakfast of fruit and an English muffin. Be sure to eat something substantial. I don't want you to get sick. That's all. And I'm happy that you're at least speaking to me. Gotta take what I can get!" Sam said with a wink.
Mercedes rolled her eyes at him as she slowly stood and reiterated, "I'm fine. In fact, your case gets better the more of these I have. So you should encourage me to drink up!" Mercedes raised her glass as she rejoined Quinn.
"Dude, what's up with your wife?" asked Stevie once the ladies were out of the room.
"Yeah, I thought I felt a cool breeze when she walked through here earlier," said Mike.
"Cool breeze? I damn near put on my coat!" exclaimed Puck.
"Guys, I don't know. Stevie, do you remember when you called the house a couple of weeks ago to ask about Mercy making that chili from Thanksgiving?" asked Sam.
Stevie answered, "Yeah, the one with the sweet potatoes. That was some good stuff! Where is it?"
"Well, I forgot to tell her you called, so she didn't make it."
"Oh!" all the guys grimaced simultaneously.
"I get it. But it was an accident, and it's too late now. So she bought something on the way over. And I may have forgotten to pick her up at the store entrance," Sam explained with raised shoulders and outstretched hands.
"Oh!" they guys had another group outburst.
"What? Y'all are supposed to have my back!" Sam said.
"Man, we have your back, but right now you're in a hole. You need to stop diggin, cause it's only getting worse," said Mike.
"He's right," added Stevie. "You have to wait for Mercy to dangle a rope to get yourself out of this hole."
Sam asked, "A rope? Really? Is it that serious?"
"Sam, my man, if you want to even sniff what lil mama got between her legs, you need to wait for that rope. And don't hang yourself with it," Puck said with finality as everyone turned to the game.
"Y'all were right. Quinn's closet is to die for! All that space, I could get lost in there! Who has room for a chaise lounge in their closet? I am so in love with your fashion sanctuary!" Mercedes raved. It wasn't quite at the Mariah Carey level, but it was something to behold.
Once back in the kitchen with the girls Mercedes did eat from some of the Super Bowl spread – chicken wings, empanadas, veggies, potato salad, coconut cheesecake, and of course the delectable 7-layer dip and chips. Plus she also had a couple of additional martinis, so she was very tipsy, but so were all of the ladies. They were talking and laughing just like they always do when they get together. And since Quinn and Stevie's kitchen had a pretty large television, the girls were able to enjoy the game and their gab session at the same time.
"Santana, did you make the empanadas? They are awesome!" exclaimed Tina.
"Yep, and if you eat them with your potato salad, it's even more awesome!" Santana said.
Mercedes chimed in, "Everything is tasty. Even my store-bought 7-layer dip is okay. And my husband has ordered me to eat up, so I need to go for round two!" She got up from the table and headed toward the island where the food was laid out.
"Why is Sam forcing you to eat?" asked Brittany.
"He knows that I haven't eaten much today. In fact, he told me what I ate, then said that I needed to make sure that I ate more tonight cause he didn't want me to get sick after drinking so much alcohol." She said as she spooned more potato salad on her plate.
"That's sweet, Mercedes." Tina said.
"Yeah, and observant," Quinn added. "I don't think Stevie could tell you what I have eaten for a meal – ever. Unless we're out at a buffet. He wants to make sure I eat enough for what he paid!"
"Face it, diva. Sam loves him some you!" said Santana.
"Whatever," Mercedes huffed as she sat back in her seat. "I'm sure there are plenty of guys out there that are concerned with bigger things than their wife's eating habits."
Mercedes felt her phone vibrate as a notice that an email had been received. When she checked her email, she let out an audible gasp. Her Dean and Cassie story had been updated! Everyone turned to her to ask what was going on. Mercedes was too drunk to think of a lie. So she just sat there mouth agape until she was able to get out, "Quinn, I just got an email and need to take care of something, do you mind if I go upstairs for a few minutes?"
"Not at all. You know the way. Hope everything is okay," said Quinn.
"Yeah, you acting like you got an email from your boy toy!" joked Santana.
"Tell us what you got going on, Mercedes. Seems like you're being secretive," Tina chimed in.
Mercedes answered everyone, "Oh my God! You guys are crazy! You know that Sam is the only man for me. It's just an email. Geesh! Can't a girl get an email? And it has nothing to do with a man," …technically, she thought. It was a fictional man that doesn't really exist. Although, she thought, she wouldn't mind if Dean Winchester were her secret lover. That would just add more spice to their clandestine relationship. Not only should she not be with him because of the indirect danger it put her in, but because it was an illicit affair! The scandalous thoughts combined with the liquor had her almost breaking a sweat. Fanning herself, she left the kitchen but heard lots of catcalls behind her.
Mercedes found herself on a futon in the study reading the latest chapter in one of her favorite stories. She had taken off her boots to get more comfortable and was happy that she wasn't too drunk to read on her cell phone. She let out another audible gasp, Dean was back!
Dean crossed the kitchen floor to Cassie. She had her back to him washing dishes, humming to herself. He grabbed her around the waist and nuzzled her neck. Initially startled at his touch, she jumped and clutched a chef's knife. But once she recognized the feel of his stubble against her neck, Cassie knew she was home and closed her eyes getting lost in the sensations he was stirring up in her. "Umm, Dean, I thought that you and your brother had another case to solve," she was able to get out.
"We did. Case solved. We had a little down time, and I needed to see you. What do they say, I could spend my life in this sweet surrender, I could stay lost in this moment forever. Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure," Dean answered with a wry smile.
Mercedes smiled and was lost in the story. How sweet! Dean came back for Cassie! And he was quoting Aerosmith! Their love was more powerful than any demonic mission! She continued reading and before she knew it…
Dean had Cassie pressed up against the wall with one hand under her shirt and bra kneading her breast while he hungrily kissed her. His other hand was behind her neck trying to push her even closer to his greedy mouth. God, this woman was driving him crazy!
Cassie was desperately pressing her crotch against Dean's jean-clad leg that was between her own. If only she could get a little more friction down there. She was trying to jut out her chest to give Dean better access to her breasts. God, this man was driving her crazy!
Mercedes had unconsciously shifted on the futon so her legs were up and her back was to an arm of the futon. And her hand that wasn't holding her phone was casually rubbing her own breast, but wasn't relieving her tension on the outside of the jersey. Mercedes needed to get her hand on the inside of her bra. While her hand was finding the best place to busy itself, her hips were intermittently rotating of their own volition.
"Please, Dean!" Cassie begged. "I need to feel you inside of me now!"
"Your wish is my command, Cass," Dean said as he plunged his cock into her juicy pussy. She was so tight, wet, and warm. He didn't know if he would ever be able to think again. It just felt too good. How did ever leave this place before and could he ever leave again. But Dean didn't have the luxury of past or future thinking. It was all he could do to concentrate on the right now and establishing a rhythm going in and out of his home place.
Cassie was reeling with pleasure. Her mouth was open with wanton pants. Her eyes were closed and her graceful fingers were grasping onto Dean's shoulders as he hovered above her. It just felt too good. Cassie didn't know how she was able to stand their time apart and would she survive it again. But she had to focus on the present and trying to make sure her love was pleased.
Mercedes was so overcome with lust that she was reading her phone with half open eyelids. After wetting her fingers with her own saliva, her busy hand had made its way under the waistbands of her skirt, tights, and panties. It found her clitoris, and she rubbed her magic button consistently. Biting her bottom lip, she continued to read.
Her walls were fluttering around him as he continued his relentless thrusting. Dean wasn't sure how much longer he could hold off. That's when he felt Cassie's hand near his nuts. He knew he'd be a goner, so he swiftly switched their positions so that she was on top of him. His mouth latched on to one of her chocolate nipples and sucked with his tongue and teeth. She felt like she was on fire. Cassie's hips were lifting and rolling…
Mercedes' short fingers were desperately pushing in and out of her wet folds trying to reach an orgasm, but they were length challenged. So she went back to pleasing herself by rubbing her clitoris. Now it was plumper than earlier, and the entire area was slick with her body fluids. Trying not to draw too much attention to her absence from the party, Mercedes let out a low moan. Reading about Dean and Cassie had Mercedes imagining and remembering about sexy times between Sam and herself. So caught up in all of her thoughts, Mercedes dropped her phone with a loud series of thuds; but she was too close to orgasm to care. Mercedes' fingers were moving at a rapid pace, her back was arching from the futon in constant waves, her skin felt like it was not a part of her body, her head was turning left and right hitting the futon arm, her eyes were squinted shut, she could hear a cheer from the group downstairs, which timed perfectly for her high orgasmic screech.
As her heart rate slowed, and her quakes and shivers subsided, Mercedes opened her eyes and looked at her surroundings. As she began to focus on the desk, wall calendar, and filing cabinet, Mercedes couldn't fathom what she did. Did she just masturbate in her brother-in-law's study during a Super Bowl party while reading about a fictional couple? What was wrong with her? She really needed to get a grip. But she couldn't grip anything in her current state as her hand was messy with her own body fluids. She thought about trying to lick the fluids off of her fingers, but decided that would be too irresponsible of her. She had to draw the line somewhere. Mercedes carefully lifted her hand from the layers of clothing missing the warmth as soon as the hand was in the open. Shaking her head at her glistening hand, she stood on wobbly legs and tiptoed to the spot where her phone landed. Shoving the phone into a skirt pocket, Mercedes gingerly walked to an upstairs bathroom to gather herself, and maybe just lick one finger. After initially washing her hands, Mercedes decided to relieve her bladder while she was there. Peeing proved more difficult than a drunk and post-orgasmic Mercedes thought. She forgot that she was wearing tights and when she pulled up her bottoms after her potty break, she poked a hole in the tights and had a run the size of Utah. Teenagers can rock the torn tights look, but what was her excuse? She opted to remove the tights and just wear the skirt. Sam could warm up the car for her before they returned home.
Looking at herself in the mirror, Mercedes thought she needed to freshen herself up. Her hair was looking a little frizzy, her lipstick was gone after the drinks and orgasmic bites to her lip, and her breath was a mix of vodka, 7-layer dip, and her own cum (it was just the middle finger). Rummaging through the medicine cabinet, Mercedes found an unused travel-sized bottle of mouthwash. As she gargled, she also found a hair clip. She was able to clip back the frizzy bits of her hair while still swishing the minty liquid in her mouth. After spitting in the sink, Mercedes wiped her mouth and found some lip gloss in her skirt pocket. She flicked a little cool water on her face to make her feel more sober, then applied some lip gloss. Now she approved of her presentable mirror assessment.
Mercedes stashed her boots and tights with her purse and jacket in a spare room downstairs. As she passed by the den again, she stopped to look at her husband. The guys were playing hearts during the halftime show. They were annoyed that the show was a bunch of middle-aged dudes singing folksy music. Every time there is an "incident" with a pop star and the Super Bowl halftime show, the NFL tends to overcorrect the problem. How could the network be shocked by wardrobe malfunctions anymore? As Mercedes studied Sam, she noticed that he was watching Puck, trying to see what card Puck was about to play. His little smirk reminded her of one that Dean Winchester often wore. And although Sam was clean shaven and didn't have the sexy stubble of Dean, his lips were even more kissable than Dean's. Whatever card Puck played caused a reaction from the guys. As everyone let out a, "Whoa!" Sam sported a big grin. Collecting the cards on the table, to claim his book, he threw the next card on the table with a quick slap and a lingering smile. That's another thing, Mercedes thought. Dean isn't the happiest individual in the world. It could be a drag to fight evil with someone so snarky and serious. But Sam was her laidback fun-loving hubby. His smile caused her to smile. Sam caught her staring and mouthed, "Are you okay?" Mercedes nodded and waved as she turned to go back into the kitchen.
"Damn, diva! What in the hell happened to you? You go upstairs to take care of an 'email,' but you come down looking like you've been sexing someone! Where are your boots? Didn't you have on tights?" Santana bellowed with air quotes.
"Mercedes, is that my hair clip?" asked Quinn.
Mercedes sighed. She realized that she should have concocted a story before she came downstairs. "Y'all are too much! While I was upstairs reading my 'email,' I got comfortable and took off my boots. After I read the email, I went to the bathroom, and because of those strong Santana martinis, I ended up with a gigantic run in my tights. So I decided to take them off. I noticed my hair was frizzy so I used a clip I found in the bathroom. Sorry, Quinn. I didn't think you would mind. Is it a crime to read an email and get a run in your tights?"
"It's okay, Mercedes. I forgot about that clip. Of course you could have anything of mine – we're sisters!" Quinn hugged her.
"Aww, not to break up the sisterly moment, but who wants a shot? And who's got the latest gossip on Kurt and Blaine?" Tina asked.
More food, more shots, and more fun. Mercedes was officially drunk. The game had ended and the awards ceremony was happening on the television. Mercedes decided that she really needed to see her man. She sauntered over to the den and plopped on her husband's lap.
"Oh, so I see you've had enough drinks to forgive me! You are drunk aren't you?" Sam asked.
Mercedes nodded while she said, "Maybe."
"Oh my goodness, what am I going to do with you?" Sam countered as he hugged her head to his shoulder. He looked into her glassy eyes and asked, "Babe, did you eat enough? Do you think you'll be sick?"
Mercedes blinked slowly, "Yes, I ate plenty. No, I don't think I'll be sick. And I love you," she said as she linked her fingers behind his neck.
"Babe, why are you telling me that you love me? Was Santana the bartender again? I thought y'all had banned her from that duty after the lost keys and window climbing incident of last summer."
"You know she'll never give that up. But I'm telling you I love you cause I do. You're so cute and happy and you care about me. Like caring about if I had eaten and remembering what I had for breakfast. You're so sweet to me. I know I said that you were stupid cause you forgot about the chili, but you're not. I'm sorry that I got so mad about it. I just love me some you." Mercedes slurred some of her speech and sang the last line as she attempted to kiss Sam's nose, but it ended up being more of a lick.
"Mercy, I love you, too! I'm glad you're not mad at me anymore. Of course I care about you, silly goose. And you know how you used to say that maybe Whitney Houston was on drugs because she sang random things at weird times? You just did that." Sam smiled as he kissed her nose. She looked at him with big eyes, raised eyebrows and a toothless grin. Sam couldn't help but laugh back at her, "God, you're cute. Even when you're drunk, you're cute." As Sam lifted his glass of bourbon to his lips, Mercedes tried to intercept the glass to take a sip. But with her alcohol-slowed reflexes she reached the glass at the same time it reached Sam's lips. Her fingers ended up directly under Sam's nose. Sam inhaled and looked at her with a single raised brow. He placed his glass down while he still held onto her hand. Sam sniffed her fingers again. This time deeper and closed his eyes as if he was remembering something. As his eyes opened, he continued to caress her hand and stare at her with one raised brow.
Mercedes didn't get his understood question. "I'm sorry, Sammy, I just wanted a swallow of your drink," she apologized.
"Mercedes," Sam spoke in a slow yet harsh whisper. "I can smell you. What the hell is going on?"
"What?" drunk Mercedes was still confused.
"I can smell you on your fingers. We've been here for several hours. This is the closest my hands have been to you all night. What the hell is going on?" Sam looked to see if anyone was turning their attention to them. Everyone else was too caught up in the tv or their own conversations to pay them any mind.
"Oh!" Mercedes recalled her earlier self-encounter in the study. "I…," she trailed off. How was she to explain masturbating in her brother-in-law's study when reading fanfiction about Dean Winchester?
"Do I need to have a conversation with Santana, or Brittany, or Puck, or somebody here because you're exploring or something?" Sam's tone was getting harsher and louder. Puck had turned their way to see why his name was being brought up.
Mercedes shook her head at Puck then looked pleadingly at Sam. "Sammy, I love you. And earlier I was in a funk because I was comparing you to Dean Winchester from Supernatural. I know it sounds crazy, but anyway and I took matters into my own hands, and…"
Sam looked shocked. "But I thought you were mad at me because of me. You were mad about me not being Dean? That is kinda crazy, babe. What is going on with you? Do you need more downtime from work? Is this hormonal? Do you think it's…," Mercedes cut him off with a hard wet kiss. Sam realized this was the rope that he was waiting for her to offer, and he didn't want to miss out on the opportunity. Sam could taste alcohol and maybe mint in her mouth. Drunk Mercedes was an awesome kisser. The liquor slowed her tongue down to a maddening pace. Then she placed her hand at the nape of his neck and started rubbing and tugging the hair at his hairline. Sam forgot about the Dean Winchester factor and began running a hand up and down her thighs. He thought her skin was like velvet, although he remembered she was wearing tights earlier. His other hand was rubbing her back trying to figure out if she was wearing a front or back closure bra. Sam wanted to shift so that she was under him, but he couldn't figure out how to discreetly make that move. Instead he tried to get his hand under the jersey to get to the girls.
"Damn, y'all!" Puck said with a smirk. "Get a room." Mercedes and Sam reluctantly parted lips. Luckily, it appeared that no one else saw their mini make-out session. She gave Puck a sheepish smile while Sam leered at his wife and knew he was past the point of no return. His mouth resumed kissing one of her spots on her neck.
"Babe, I'm not gonna make it. I need you now," Sam pleaded.
"Sam!"
"I'm serious, Mercy. I'm gone," he said as his tongue moved to her ear.
"But we've had too much to drink to drive home, what do you wanna do?"
"I don't give a fuck, babe. I need you now," Sam repeated as he stroked her leg.
"Okay, I'll go ask Quinn if I can give you a tour upstairs."
"Let's go."
"Sam, you don't have to go with me."
"Mercy, you don't understand the seriousness of the situation. Let's go!"
Mercedes peeked her head into a kitchen doorway. The ladies were still around the table drinking and talking about the latest reality housewives show. "Hey Quinn, I'm gonna give Sammy a quick tour of the upstairs. Okay?"
"Sure! I can't believe you even asked! You're family. I can get Stevie to give him a tour if you like." Quinn responded.
"No!" Mercedes quickly replied. Quinn could have sworn she heard a male voice in stereo with Mercedes' negative reply. "Umm, I want to show Sam some things, you know, that I want to add to our home, so ah, Stevie's not necessary. Thanks, Quinn," Mercedes left without hearing another response.
"Babe, I'm not gonna make it. How about the stairs?"
"Sammy, we cannot have sex on your brother's stairs!"
"Fine, but we gotta hurry." Sam said as he grabbed for Mercedes' butt.
Between the vodka shots and the kisses, Mercedes head was a little lost when she got upstairs. Grabbing Sam's hand, she tried to find the office again. "I think it was in here," she said as she opened the door to a linen closet. "Oops, no, this is a linen closet."
"Perfect! Closets are secluded." Sam exclaimed. He swiftly turned Mercedes around so she was facing him and her back was to the closet. He proceeded to close his eyes to kiss her and finally give the girls his attention.
"But Sam a linen closet isn't really a closet. It's just shelves." Mercedes tried to reason as Sam moved his lips to her neck. "We're still in the hallway." she moaned. "Ow!" Mercedes complained as her hair got caught on a shelf.
Sam resigned, "Okay, but we need to find a place like now!"
The next door that she opened was the master bedroom. Sam shoved Mercedes into the room and immediately dropped his jeans to the floor. "Sam, this is the master bedroom! We can't do it on Stevie and Quinn's bed. That's just gross."
"At this moment, I don't fucking care about anything, but getting inside of you! C'mon Mercy! I can't wait anymore!"
Before she knew it, Mercedes was face up and thighs wide on the chaise lounge in Quinn's closet. Sam's face was buried between her legs, and she couldn't stop moaning. Her jersey was pushed up around her neck and her skirt, bra, and panties were somewhere on the floor. Sam's thick lips were kissing her own lower thick lips repeatedly. He re-introduced his tongue to her pussy reveling in the taste and texture of the wetness he found. She was just the correct mixture of salty and sweet and she was so wet, it was like a water fountain gushing from her pussy. He had anxiously waited to taste her after he smelled her fingers earlier, and just couldn't get enough. "Babe, you taste amazing, and you're so fuckin' wet."
"Only for you, Sammy," Mercedes answered. She was losing control of her hips since they were riding Sam's tongue fast and hard. He added his fingers to the mix so he could tickle her g-spot. He knew she liked to feel full as he insistently sucked on her clitoris with his full lips. It was the perfect shape and size for his mouth, it was like it was made for him to suck. And suck he did. Mercedes couldn't look at his head between her legs any longer, she was too lost in the sensations he was providing. As she closed her eyes, she felt herself coming for the second time that night. Her body convulsed and she slammed her head against the bottom of the chaise. Sam clamped his arms around her thighs to keep her thighs open and lightly lick her clitoris as she came down from her high.
As her tremors died down, Sam stood over her looking delicious completely naked with a granite dick throbbing in his grip. It was leaking a bit of pre-cum, but Mercedes knew they didn't have the time for her to go down on him. "Oh Sammy, I want your dick in my mouth so bad," she whined. "But I want it in my pussy more. Please give it to me," Mercedes begged. Sam smiled and aligned his dick with Mercedes pulsating pussy. With a familiarity of ownership, he glided into her. She sighed contentedly at the incredible feeling that the initial insertion always accompanied. Sam sighed as well. Ever since he saw his wife in that Titans jersey earlier in the evening, this is where he longed to be. Her pussy was so wet and tight for him. He could feel that her previous orgasm wasn't over or her next one wasn't far off because her walls were trembling around him. Recognizing that he needed to concentrate and establish a rhythm, Sam focused on the fabric of the chaise lounge above Mercedes' head. He knew that if he looked down at the girls bouncing ever so gracefully, he would come way too soon.
She found that she was able to meet him thrust for thrust and released breathless moans whenever their hips touched. Mercedes noticed a drop of sweat trailing down Sam's jaw. She reached her head up to lick it and delight in the salty evidence of the work her man was putting in. The slight change in position and the feel of her tongue near his ear caused Sam to groan. He lifted her legs so that they were over his shoulders. In this position, they both knew that she would come fast since he could hit her spot easily. "Sam, I'm gonna come, and I might be loud." Mercedes said.
"It's okay, babe, come for me. Come for me as loud as you need. This is your dick, baby. Take us with you." Sure enough, after several thrusts in this position, Mercedes was coming, and screaming, and coming, and shaking, and coming. Sam didn't last much longer, feeling her pussy grip his dick while she was coming sent him over the edge. He unloaded all of his semen into her in a few thrusts. They both came so violently, that Mercedes slipped from the side of the chaise, landing on the carpeted floor. Sam was pulled beside her. With heavy pants, they cradled each other trying to lower their heart rates and breathing to normal ranges. They relished in the comfortable silence for a while.
"Do you think anyone heard us?" Mercedes asked.
"I don't care. We're married. They're family. It's all good."
Mercedes was too tired to argue. "I guess we should stay the night."
"Yeah, I kinda assumed we would three drinks ago. Remind me to thank Dean Winchester," Sam said as Mercedes playfully hit her husband's shoulder. "What?"
Mercedes sighed. "We have to get up at some point."
"No we don't. If we're staying the night, we could sleep here," he said, pulling her closer to him.
"Whatever," Mercedes replied as she turned from under his arm to get off the floor. However, something under the chaise lounge caught her eye. She was frightened at first because it looked furry, but not like an animal. Mercedes reached for the item and couldn't recognize it until she got it in front of her face. Laughing she turned her shocked eyes to her husband and dangled the thing in front of his face, "Umm Sam, look what I found under the chaise lounge."
Sam gazed at the purple fuzzy handcuffs with his mouth wide open in incredulity, "It's official. My brother and your best friend are freaks. And now we know. Some things you just can't unlearn."